


Whitecross - A Western Klance Fic

by GreyySeal



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cowboy Keith (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Keith/Lance (Voltron), adashi, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyySeal/pseuds/GreyySeal
Summary: Lance was a cowhand for a wealthy family when he and the other cowhands were viciously attacked while moving cattle from one pasture to another during a vicious blizzard. He gets shot during the fight with the robbing gang, but is saved by a small group. These turn out to be another group of outlaws, rivals to the ones that attacked him, and he joins their ranks. As he tries to fit in, he butts heads with the most stubborn of the group, but circumstances will forge a bond stronger than steel.New chapter weekly!





	1. Salvation

That winter had been particularly rough for the cowhands. They were constantly moving the cattle to different pastures, to entirely separate pieces of the Lagrans’ property, and were harshly punished for the accidental deaths of two calves in the herd of thousands. The son of the Lagrans, a young scholar by the peculiar name of Lotor, took pity on the cowhands and would provide them with extra warm clothing as well as general company, someone to share news with as well as listen to talk about how things were going back home. Lance enjoyed his company, but was a bit jealous; Lance was a bit sweet on Lotor’s betrothed, a wealthy oilman’s daughter named Allura. Lance, however, respected and admired Lotor, and refused to make any sort of move.

Lotor had left the group that morning to beat the storm home, and the cowhands continued their journey moving the cattle. They were close enough to see each other, but out of earshot, until the storm crept up on them in the early afternoon. The blizzard was vicious and they lost sight of each other, and each were glad for Lotor’s kindness. Lotor’s mercy, however, would not be enough to stop what happened next.

Shots rang out, a couple whizzing by Lance’s head. His horse, a sturdy bay Morgan, snorted and raised his front hooves a few inches above the ground. Lance steadied him and turned the horse to try and see where his attackers were. He could suddenly see two dark masses rush out of the wall of wind and snow, and shots went off. Both he and his horse were struck, Lance falling to the ground with a bullet in his thigh. He cried out in pain and stayed low, his teeth clenched, in order to avoid the robbers coming back around to finish the job. He ripped a bandana from his horse’s saddlebag, pained by the loss of the beast. He was thankful, however, that if his horse had to go, it was a quick death. He took his Colt revolvers, one from his hip and the other held in holster half way down his uninjured thigh, and waited for any sign of the men who attacked him. He winced as he heard the screams of the other cowhands, louder than anything he had heard aside from a thunderstorm that passed over his head a few years earlier. He then opened his mouth without thinking, both guns cocked and ready to fire. His hat was beside him, slightly crushed from falling off his horse.

“Leave them alone! Come back here you bastards!” he screamed, his voice cracking in pain. “Finish the job!”

It didn’t take long three men to return, and Lance quickly shot them down, tears blurring his vision. He leaned against the body of his horse and took as much as he could from the saddlebags, including a Winchester rifle, and held it to his chest. He picked up the bandanna before making a tourniquet for his leg, breathing heavily. He fired into the air, but he heard nothing except for the panicked sounds of the herd, and the wind howling in his ears. As his adrenaline died down, he felt his eyelids grow heavy, and his world faded into black.

When Lance woke up, he was in the back of a wagon with blankets pulled up to his chest. He was surprisingly warm, but felt weak. A man sat beside him, wearing a simple light shirt, dark brown pants, a heavy jacket, and a dusty Stetson hat that probably used to be white. He wore old grasses that sat upon the bridge of his nose, and his deep brown eyes looked across the darkening landscape. His skin was the color of the milk chocolates his grandmother used to make, and he looked just as sweet. It took a minute before Lance realized that the stranger could have been dangerous. As soon as the man’s eyes met his, however, Lance felt a little safer; they were firm, but held no malice.

“He’s awake,” the man announced, causing the two men who drove the wagon to look back. One of them, the one holding the reins, seemed to relax, and the other, riding shotgun, seemed to bristle. The man who had spoken reached down, placing a hand to Lance’s forehead. “Easy there, tiger. Found you while we were moving around. You’re not running a fever, so you should be just fine.”

Lance slowly sat up, grimacing as his thigh sent waves of pain through him. He looked up and saw a wagon close behind them, driven by a large man with dark skin and a much smaller young woman. He seemed confused, but the man in front flashed a warm smile.

“We don’t mean to scare you, but we’re a bunch of outlaws. Lucky for you, the people who attacked you aren’t too fond of us, and us of them,” the man chirped, his sharp eyes combined with his jet black hair and pale complexion making it obvious that he was of some Asian descent. The man beside him appeared to be similar, though his hair was longer, and his eyes seemed a little more round, and more angry. “We won’t hurt you. You’ll stay with us until you’re good enough to walk again, and then we can drop you off in the next town, unless you’d like to stay.”

The grump riding shotgun obviously wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t dare speak up; it was clear the driver was the leader of the group. Lance simply nodded along, listening as the man sitting beside him introduced the group. The man in the dusty hat was Adam, and the leader was Shiro -- though Adam called him Takashi. The man riding shotgun was Keith, and the man and young lady behind them were Hunk and Pidge, respectively. Lance introduced himself to those in his wagon, figuring he could actually talk with the others at a later point. He was tired, hungry, and confused. He didn’t know where he was, or if he were really safe. Suddenly, a breeze blew, and he shivered.

“Lay down, darling,” Adam murmured, pulling the blankets over Lance after their unexpected guest followed his commands. It was strange to hear someone, especially a man, call him darling. “You got shot, after all. You need to at least lie still until we find a place to camp, or until morning.”

“We need to go through the night,” Shiro cut in, sighing. “You get some sleep, Adam. You can drive next, and then Keith can catch some sleep.”

Adam nodded before laying on one of the benches of the wagon, mostly out of sight to Lance, and made his way into a comfortable dream. Lance, meanwhile, remained silent as he listened to Shiro talk with Keith about the weather. It was boring, but he wanted to know if the storm would let up. Before he could get the information he wanted, Shiro instructed Keith to get Lance something to eat. Keith groaned, something Lance didn’t appreciate, but he climbed into the back and grabbed a can of baked beans. He used a knife to pop the lid open before he handed the can to the stranger before tossing him a spoon. Lance sat up, looking after Keith. He frowned deeply, but figured he should make a good impression regardless.

“Thank you…” Lance murmured, turned away and eating quietly.

It didn’t take Lance long to finish, but his thoughts rested on what happened to the others, and if the young scholar with a heart of gold got home safely. He finally laid down again with worry etched into his gentle face, but eventually found sleep as the horizon darkened to a deep purple.

✦

When Lance awoke again, it was early morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, and the morning was quiet. He sat up and observed the land around them, the storm having passed and the snow settling into a fine powder. It was beautiful, but it didn’t take away the pain, physical or otherwise. Beside him where Adam had been now was Shiro, dead asleep while Keith and Adam sat in front, quietly talking. Lance’s stirring had brought their attention to him, but Keith quickly grew disinterested.

“How’d you sleep?” Adam inquired, clearly worried for the cowhand they rescued. “How’re you feeling?”

“I slept alright,” Lance replied, looking down at his leg. His wound didn’t hurt as much, and it was more of a dull ache if he didn’t move his leg. “My leg’s fine, but my ego is a little bruised.”

Both Adam and Lance shared a gentle laugh, causing the driver to bristle and hunch over a little more. Lance didn’t know what his problem was, but he knew they wouldn’t get along. The others? They seemed like respectable and hospitable people for outlaws, but Keith? Something was off about him.

“I’m glad. I was a little afraid you’d get a fever and it’d be downhill from there,” Adam admitted, seeming to relax a little. “We’re going to find a nice place to camp out and then we’ll make breakfast. I’ll send Keith into town later so he can grab some more food and medicine.”

Lance nodded with a small smile, looking over at Shiro briefly, but had to do a double take. For the first time, he noticed that Shiro’s right arm was mostly gone, hidden by the tied sleeve of his shirt. He was a bit surprised, and he wondered how he lost it. There was also a scar across the bridge of his nose that spanned under his eyes, and yet he seemed relaxed and happy, even in rest. Lance frowned slightly, and Adam huffed fondly, watching Shiro carefully.

“He fought a bear,” Adam stated plainly, raising an eyebrow as he observed Lance’s reaction with amusement.

“A bear?!” Lance whispered harshly, his deep blue eyes wide with wonder. “You’re joking!”

“Nope!” Adam chuckled, reaching over from the front of the wagon to push back a lock of Shiro’s jet black hair. “That’s how I first met him. Wanna hear the story?” After Lance’s excited nodding, Adam continued. “I was living just outside of town with my folks then, I was our little town’s fiddle player. I played just about every night in a saloon near my home. Apparently Takashi was getting some drinks there that night as he was passing through town, and he’s a lover of the fiddle. Never learned how to play though. Anyway, I went hunting the next day and I came face to face with this monster grizzly, and he lunged at me. I was able to keep him offa me for a bit while I screamed for help, and then Takashi showed up and just wrestled with this grizzly. It ended up grabbing his arm and just destroyed it before he was able to whip out his revolver and kept firing into its head until it keeled over and died. Then I had to carry the poor bastard back to my house and fix him up. Damn shame we had to amputate his arm, but it was necessary. He stayed with me and my family for awhile before I finally let him go, and he asked me to come with him, so I did.”

“Wow…” Lance murmured, watching the sleeping Shiro in awe. Seeing how much brawn the man carried, it wasn’t too crazy to think he would wrestle a bear. “He’s really amazing…”

“Yeah...he’s sweet, but he can be dumb as a pile of rocks sometimes. You should see him when a pretty woman talks to him. He gets all hot-faced and stammer-y.” Adam laughed softly, and Shiro’s eyes fluttered open. “Morning, darling! Just making friends with our guest.”

Shiro sat up and smiled sleepily to Lance, who felt like he was in the presence of a god. He had known the guy for less than twelve hours, but he already admired him. Shiro cracked his back and stretched with a yawn, looking like he could fall asleep again.

“Keith, see that clearing? Let’s set up there,” Shiro ordered, pointing past Keith’s head, to which Keith nodded. Shiro turned back to Lance and smiled once again. “I guess you want to hear about what happened to my arm.”

“Just told him,” Adam chirped, smiling teasingly. “How you saved this poor fiddle-playing damsel in distress from a bear.”

Shiro’s face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Y-yeah...I guess you’re right.” Its like he was talking to a pretty lady. “I, uh...I guess I did good.”

“Considering I’m not dead? I think that’s pretty good.”

“Y-yeah, you’re really amazing!” Lance blurted, causing Shiro to laugh and smile sheepishly. “You’re like a knight!”

Shiro was touched by Lance’s words, and ruffled his hair with a chuckle. He looked forward again, his eyes lingering on Adam for a moment before looking past Keith. Lance was a bit perplexed by the look and immediately held suspicions. There was no malice in his thoughts, however; he himself was bisexual, and he wondered if he could confide in the two men. His thoughts were interrupted as Keith stopped the carriage in a snowy forest clearing, and the second wagon pulled up next to them. The group got to setting up camp fairly quickly, with Lance handing off anything they asked him to pass. Once they finished, the group talked together around the wagon Lance sat in, discussing where Lance would stay. Adam offered that Keith, who usually slept alone, would share his tent with the stranger. Keith opened his mouth to protest, but a look from Shiro quickly shut him up. Lance wasn't exactly thrilled, but he couldn't say anything; he was in no position to argue. The other man he hadn't met yet -- who introduced himself as Hunk with a bright smile and a sunny disposition -- helped him to Keith's tent. Lance avoided putting any weight on his injured leg as he limped, held up by Hunk, and was able to relax once he sat down again. Hunk sat down beside Lance, eyeing him carefully before seeming satisfied that their guest was alright. He was a large man, but it wasn't fat; it was, in fact, muscle. He was clearly powerful, but he seemed to be the kindest of them all. Lance had heard him talking excitedly about cooking a proper meal for their guest. He rubbed his face and sighed deeply as he looked to the man beside him.

"What's that guy's deal?" Lance questioned, a slight pout to his lip. "Keith, I mean. He looks angrier than a bull."

"He's usually pretty quiet," came Hunk's reply. "He's just grouchy, I think. Thinks you'll be a waste of the little we got. But, Keith isn't great with strangers, and you seem like a nice guy that can handle himself pretty well. We'll get along alright."

Lance hummed in thought, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll do my best to give back to you guys. You might be outlaws, but you could have just left me. And aside from Keith, you all seem like lovely people."

The tent flap opened, showing the sourpuss face of Keith as he went to his own cot and chest, opening it up before going through his things.

"Thanks, partner. Just do me a favor and get better quick so I don't have to look at your mug any longer than I have to."

Lance bristled, his eyebrows knit together in annoyance. "What did I ever do to you?"

Keith was quiet, taking a bow and quiver of arrows from the chest before he left the tent, causing Hunk to flinch.

"Geez...he's more annoyed than usual. I think he just likes his privacy, and that's kind of being disturbed right now. He'd be a bit snappy with any of us if we were moved into his tent," Hunk muttered, still looking at the now closed tent flap. "But he's usually just passive aggressive. Shiro will talk to him later, I'm sure you two will be just fine."

Hunk patted Lance's shoulder and flashed him a smile as he got up. He waved before leaving the tent and heading off to cook breakfast. As Lance laid down, Shiro peeked in and smiled.

"Can I come in?" After getting a nod, Shiro slipped in and sat on Keith's bed, across from Lance. "How are you feeling? I'm sorry if Keith's giving you a hard time. He’s not usually like this.”

“Its fine, I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Lance assured, more to himself than to his host. “Besides! What’s the worst that can happen?”


	2. Getting Settled

Everything. Everything can go wrong.

Well, not everything. Lance didn’t get an infection, thankfully, but he did have something under his skin.

Keith.

What an asshole.

Lance tried to make amends, but Keith didn’t budge. He wasn’t directly antagonizing, but the tension remained. No one understood why Keith didn’t want to talk to Lance, but it wasn’t so bad; there was just a lot of unresolved conflict, no big deal! Every night was a pain for them both. Lance would usually awkwardly try to initiate small talk, only to find that Keith didn’t respond or pretended to be asleep. But Lance didn’t know if he actually pretended. It was more the idea that he didn’t know if Keith passed out as soon as he was comfortable, or if he really did ignore Lance.

That, however, was a lightbulb in the entire galaxy that was the bonds he formed with the rest of the group. He and Hunk were closest, although he felt like he was third wheeling him and Pidge. After that, it was Adam. Adam was sort of the caretaker of the group, and, as Lance found out, was a leader alongside Shiro. They were nearly inseparable, and Lance longed to have someone like that. He, of course, became certain that Adam and Shiro were romantically involved. Lance was too nervous to say anything, and he often just left them alone as to not strain their hidden relationship. He stayed in his bed, for the most part, often laying on his stomach as he thought about what home was like without him.

His mother must have been worried sick, and he immediately teared up. He tensed as he leaned into his pillow, silently weeping as he thought of home. Any sounds he made were muffled by the pillow, and his thoughts were too crowded to notice the sounds of someone approach his tent. The tent flap opened and closed quickly as Keith swooped in, going straight for the chest beside his cot. He noticed Lance’s weeping and he stiffened, but he couldn’t just leave. Lance had also stiffened and stayed frozen for a moment before he realized that Keith wouldn’t leave. He sat up slightly, his eyes red and his cheeks stained with tears, and frowned.

“Go ahead and make fun of me,” Lance snapped, his voice broken as he wiped his nose and looked away, furiously embarrassed.

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” Keith murmured, unsure of what to say. He hesitated before he glanced away. “Sorry. I hope you feel better.”

With that, Keith disappeared out of the tent, trekking back to the others. There was some quiet whispers among them before another length of silence, an exasperated sigh, and more steps back to the tent. Keith leaned in -- seemingly a little more relaxed now that Lance was simply sniffling -- and sighed.

“Come on,” Keith huffed. Ever the optimist. “We’re going into town. You need a horse, and Shiro’s being all soft on you.”

Lance sniffed before he sat up and wiped at his eyes before he stood up, limping slightly as he followed Keith out. He felt much better after just a couple of weeks, and he was able to get around with a minimal amount of pain. He wasn’t quite well enough to go off on his own, but he almost didn’t want to leave. Lance wanted revenge, and he owed so much to the group. Shiro had come to call the group Atlas, and Lance felt like he belonged. Despite missing his family, he felt more individuated than if he was at home; he had a large family, and they all lived together on a decent little farm, but here he felt well-taken care of, and he thought that perhaps he could better provide for his family by working with the group than by being a cowhand. Did his family even have to know? He was already far from home for weeks or even months at a time without notice. The only difference would be that he would have to hide his life of crime. And he would have to pray that news of the attack didn’t come to light.

Lance shook the thoughts away as he reached the others, smiling to Adam and Keith. Considering they were the only ones standing, he assumed the two of them would take him into the nearby town. They were silent as they made their way to where the group’s horses were hitched, Adam taking the lead of a large buckskin Shire -- one similar to Shiro’s own white Clydesdale -- while Keith led a red roan horse, built for speed. Lance was helped up onto Adam’s horse -- affectionately named Bucky -- and held on, a bit apprehensive being on a such a large beast. He was more used to a horse like Keith’s; a little smaller, and swift. The trio set off, the Shire padded through the snow with grace while Keith’s awkwardly hopped and pranced through the snow, more accustomed to speed and flat dry land that didn’t sink under its hooves. It didn’t take long to get to the small town just out of sight from the camp, and Lance sighed in near relief; civilization! They made their way down the main street, people bustling as they went about their day. They made their way to the town stable, and Lance felt his heart begin to pound in the sheer thrill.

Adam had helped Lance down, making sure that the young man’s leg had little pressure against it. Lance limped into the stable and looked around with a bright smile, the familiar smell bringing a sense of home to him. As he stepped forward, a man popped his head out from a stall with a warm smile. His hair was almost orange with a twirly mustache to match. He wore worn but fine clothing, tall boots, and a clean Stetson hat. Not what one would expect from a stable owner.

“Hello, boys!” The man’s voice was incredibly bright and lively, and Lance felt he could easily become friends with him if he lived in the same town. “What can I help you with today?”

“Hello Coran! Looking for a horse for our friend here,” Adam announced, his hand slapping Lance’s shoulder. Lance stumbled forward a bit and laughed under his breath, thinking that Adam was like an older brother. “Tell him what you want.”

“My old horse was pretty fast, and he had a lot of stamina,” Lance explained. “Basically, I need a cowhand’s horse.”

Coran hummed in thought before he motioned for Lance to follow him. He led him to a blue roan mustang, a stout but powerful horse. Lance beamed and leaned against the door to meet the beast, and the gelding played with his hair. Adam laughed loudly, something clearly humoring him. Lance ignored him before he turned to Coran with a bright expression.

“I love him!”

✦

Lance rode out of town on the horse with a bright smile, his horse prancing through the snow with ease while Keith’s continued to awkwardly hop. While Keith followed behind, Adam led in the front. They returned to the camp, met with warm welcomes, and Lance carefully hopped of his horse. He was warmed by the rays of the sun, and he simply leaned against his horse’s saddle as he took in the late morning sun. Lance’s eyes were closed as he relaxed, but his thoughts and relaxation were interrupted by Keith’s scoff. He shot the gruff man a glare, which was promptly returned. Adam turned Lance away, scolding them both for their childishness, and led him to the campfire. He was a gentle man, but was not afraid to put his foot down. Adam then went to Keith and spoke under his breath to him, and Keith went up to Lance after.

“You want to stay, right?” he huffed, meeting Lance’s gaze. The two were about the same height, so the ability to look down at the other was unavailable to them both. “A softie with a bunch of outlaws.”

“Yeah,” Lance snipped, though he wasn’t actually certain that he would stay. He just wanted to irk Keith. “It’s better than taking care of cows for some pompous assholes.”

“Then let’s see what you can do.” Keith was definitely pissed. “We don’t need a softie like you wasting our resources.”

“Boys,” Shiro warned, his gaze stern. “Just go. And don’t shoot each other.”

The two glared at each other before Keith gathered his guns and Lance gathered his. He wondered how soon it would be before he could buy some more ammunition; he only had a little bit, aside from what was already in his guns. There was a feeling in his stomach, his instinct telling him to be careful. He didn’t know why, but he had a bad feeling about this trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was shorter! The next few weeks will be v busy, but I'll post what I can! Sorry lovelies!


	3. Aphelion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gay disasters in the making <3

The two men rode silently, both annoyed that Shiro was forcing them to spend more time together. They weren’t friends, and they wouldn’t be friends. Keith was too grumpy, and Lance was new. They rode their new horses, which seemed to get along pretty well. Despite the horses both being males, they were also both gelded, so the ambition to fight to breed with mares was little to none. They were both younger horses, and more playful. Lance prayed that they didn’t become friends; he hated Keith, so his horse shouldn’t betray him so cruelly.

As Lance pouted in thought, Keith rode ahead on his horse -- affectionately named Red -- with a frown. He didn’t want to be stuck babysitting someone he couldn’t stand. He should have tried to convince Hunk or Pidge to go. They all got along fairly well, that bunch. Keith wasn’t very close with them. He was closer to Shiro -- who was like a brother to him -- and Adam -- the man his brother loved.

It wasn’t terribly strange to have a gay adoptive brother. Keith, in fact, was the same way, but he had been unable to find a partner. “Unable” might not be the right word; he didn’t care to try. He didn’t think it would be wise to get attached to anyone, or get anyone attached to him. The gang moved around a lot to avoid the law catching onto their scent, and they sometimes moved further than they wanted to. Further from anyone else they knew.

Keith snapped himself out of his thoughts before looking over his shoulder at Lance, slowing his horse to a stop. Lance followed suit and looked to Keith expectantly.

“Here. We’re far enough away that we won’t scare the locals,” Keith muttered, hopping off of Red and retrieving his rifle from his horse’s saddle. He held the gun out to Lance as the cowhand dismounted and approached him, promptly taking the rifle. Part of him wondered for a second if Lance would fire at him, but the thought was extinguished as he saw Lance inspect the gun and handle it properly, surprising the outlaw. “At least you won’t accidentally shoot me in the back.”

Lance huffed, a little amused. Keith should have guessed that, in Lance’s line of work, a gun was as necessary as food or water. Or booze.

“I had to carry these bad boys,” Lance mused, patting the holster of one of his revolvers. “I know how to use each of these.”

“You might not even be that good compared to me,” Keith reminded him, pulling his bandanna out and using his knife to hang it on a tree. “Hit the middle of the design, if y-”

Keith was interrupted by the loud bang of Lance’s revolvers, and the middle of the bandanna was torn apart. As he turned to glower at the man, Lance twirled the revolvers on his fingers with a smirk. Before Keith could scold the cowhand, he was interrupted by whistles and whooping. The two looked over to see a group of men, all clearly outlaws, firing their guns in the air. The two bristled with fear, and they rushed back to their horses. They hopped on and spurred the horses forward, bullets from the group of about six or seven men whizzing by their heads. Lance held his rifle and aimed back, firing at the men. Each bullet found its mark, making Keith raise an eyebrow. He glowered again before he called back to Lance.

“Hey! Hard right! Better to lead them towards town and get the law’s attention!” he yelled back to him, causing Lance to face forward again.

Before Lance could reply, a bullet caught his shoulder and he lurched forward, nearly falling off of his horse as a cry left his lips. Keith looked back in fear, but was glad to see Lance hadn’t died; it was more a graze than an actual wound, and they wouldn’t have wasted money on a horse for a dead man. Keith rode closer and lassoed Lance’s horse while Lance focused on holding on with one hand while the other fired a revolver at the men. Lance panted as the warm, wet feeling of his blood soaking his shoulder and dripped down his chest and back, soaking his shirt. Keith fired back at the men as well as they rode down the dirt road covered in powdery snow. They turned off towards the town, and Keith leaned towards Lance.

“Hold on, Lance!” Keith called, ducking down as a bullet nearly hit his head.

The quick motion pulled his hat off his head, and he couldn’t snatch it out of the air in time. He damned the men and the wind as he and Lance continued forward to town, where a regiment of lawmen emerged from and charged forward. They pulled out their guns and waited until Keith and Lance had gotten past them before they opened fire at the large group of outlaws. Keith and Lance ran into town before Keith led Lance to the doctor, hitching the horses as he sent him in. Keith leaned against Red and covered his face with his arm, still catching his breath as he tried to relax after the attack. Behind him, Lance’s horse snorted and pawed at the dirt, clearly agitated. Keith stepped towards it and hushed it, running his hand over its neck while his other hand reached into the saddlebag to search for a snack. He pulled out a sort of oatmeal cookie -- a common snack Coran made for both rider and mount -- and offered it to the horse. The blue roan mustang’s ears faced forward, and it relaxed, knickering to Keith as it ate the snack. Keith patted its neck again before he walked into the doctor’s office. He had taken Lance into the next room and was starting to patch him up. The first thing Keith heard was a hiss of pain before Lance half-groaned, half-laughed, cursing the cleaning solution. Keith didn’t enter the room, and instead found himself sitting in the front room. He wrung his hands in worry, mostly because of his predictions for how the other would react, especially Adam. He takes Lance out, and he ends up shot. It didn’t look great. He knew, however, that the others wouldn’t actually think Keith would hurt someone he hardly knew. Eventually, Lance came out with his shoulder patched up, his eyes not meeting Keith’s. Keith stood and looked to the doctor, who smiled reassuringly.

“He’ll be alright, just make sure the wound stays clean and you change the bandage often,” he sighed, his eyes watching Lance with a glint. He was clearly confident in his abilities, and Lance’s ailment was a walk in the park. “And make sure he doesn’t strain himself.”

“Thanks, doc,” Keith murmured, paying the man before he led Lance out. “Let’s head back at a walk. Don’t wanna tear open the good doctor’s work.”

Lance offered a little smile and walked up to his horse. The horse snorted and nudged its owner, clearly relieved to see Lance alright. Keith unhitched the horses before helping Lance up and ordering him to use one hand while resting the arm that had been hurt. Lance didn’t argue, but he wanted to. He, of course, was in no position to do so, and thus he simply followed Keith back at a steady walk. The long walk back home -- was it alright to call it home? -- was voiceless. The two men were quiet, but there wasn’t anything to talk about. They wanted to focus on getting back.

Once they did, everyone was fawning over them both for injuries. Keith explained that they had been ambushed by a group of outlaws, a small squadron that was associated with the Galra. Lance listened as Shiro explained to him the rivalry between them -- among other gangs -- and the Galra, led by a mysterious man that communicates through his right hand man, Sendak. Sendak and Shiro had a history; they once ran together before Sendak betrayed him and left Shiro at the mercy of the law when Shiro told Sendak to not hurt the hostages. Luckily, the hostages felt an obligation to Shiro for saving their lives and told the law that he was one of them. Ever since, Shiro and Sendak have hunted each other, and the grudge turned into genuine hatred when Sendak attacked and killed Shiro’s parents. No one knew who really led the Galra, but there were always rumors.

“Shiro...I’m so sorry,” Lance murmured, carefully getting off his horse before hitching it with the others.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Lance.” Shiro was sincere as he approached the young man, his hand clapping down on Lance’s uninjured shoulder. “We need to focus on ourselves first. Revenge can wait.”

Lance searched Shiro’s face and found nothing but sincerity. He nodded, reassured, before he went to the fire with Hunk and Pidge in tow. As Hunk tended to Lance -- he was teary-eyed in fear for his friend -- Pidge got him something to eat. Adam and Shiro made sure that Keith was okay, but he brushed it off.

“I’m fine, guys, really,” Keith murmured, offering a little smile to reassure the two older men. “You should worry about Lance. He’s the one who got shot.”

The two men looked at each other, and Shiro went off with Keith to spend some quality time with his little brother. Adam, however, gave them space and approached the others. He sat across from them and watched Lance carefully.

“I’m glad you’re okay Lance. And I’m more glad to hear it wasn’t Keith who shot you,” Adam chuckled, watching the trio with a smile. “So, can you shoot?”

“Of course,” Lance assured, used to Adam going straight to the point. It was easy to talk to him that way. “I think I’m a good shot, good enough to take down a couple of the Galra.”

“Good! We’re gonna need that talent. We have plenty here, but we won’t say no to a shot like you.”

The morning was still bright, but Lance needed some rest. He did get shot after all. It had been happening too much for his taste. The young man made his way back to the tent he shared with Keith once he finished talking and eating to lay down and rest for awhile. As he entered the tent, he saw a leather notebook and a pencil on his cot with a little note. He picked up the note and smiled; it was a gift from Hunk. After reading the note, Lance set it aside and opened up the notebook. He sat down and began writing the morning away.

‘I’m not exactly sure what to write. I guess I could start with the fact that I got shot less than an hour ago. It’s not too bad, it was only a graze on my right shoulder, and I can write with both hands so it’s not a huge hassle. Keith and I got ambushed by these Galra guys, but we took care of it.’

Lance was unsure of what else to write, and opted to just write more later in the day. He wasn’t a great writer -- he didn’t do it often, aside from keeping a journal like he did at home and at work -- but it was good to get his experiences and thoughts on paper. What could it hurt?

Keith entered the tent, knocking his train of thought right off the tracks. They both frowned, ignoring the other. The animosity was still there, and -- Lance guessed -- it would last a long time, if not forever. He hated Keith for hating him. He did nothing wrong to Keith. He was a stowaway on his cruise ship life. An illness.

Lance grimaced slightly as he turned his focus back to his journal. He began sketching his new horse, smiling at the thought. He still didn’t have a name for him, but he knew he would have one at the end of the day. He pushed his hair back and scratched his head in thought while he drew, tongue sticking out slightly as he concentrated. He didn’t even notice Keith standing beside him.

“Not terrible,” Keith murmured, causing Lance to jump and slide his pencil across the drawing. “Ah, sorry...Thought you knew I was here…”

“I knew you were in here,” Lance huffed, erasing the mark before going over the drawing to fix what he had to erase. “Didn’t know you were right there just watching me like a creep.”

“I’m not creeping, just curious.”

Lance and Keith exchanged glares. Because of Keith’s judgement, Lance had gotten shot.

“Creeping,” Lance repeated, earning a soft swipe on the back of the head. There was anything but affection to the gentle blow, however. More of a warning than anything. “Hey!”

Before Lance could retaliate, Keith had disappeared. Lance huffed and stared at the closed tent flap with a look that could kill. It didn’t take Lance long before he turned away and laid down, holding the notebook under his chest as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	4. Update: Sorry!

Don't worry, this story isn't dead!! I was super swamped with rehearsals for Les Mis (which went super well, I'm glad to have such an amazing show for my senior year of high school) and I got sick during the show. Luckily I was tech crew, so I was just more tired than usual when I got sick. I still have a cough a few weeks later, which is v v weird, but I've also been super busy with school! I'm about to graduate high school, and then I'll have a lot of free time this summer! I should have a new chapter up next Saturday, but please don't kill me if I don't lol

Again, I'm super sorry for the unannounced hiatus, but the summer will be full of updates and art if y'all behave lmao

I don't have a lot of fans rn but that's okay and I'm so grateful for each kudo and bookmark! Even if I'm never on Dirty Laundry's level, I'll still be happy! Thank you guys and gals and nonbinaries, and happy Pride month!


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